The Luckiest
by fadedelegance
Summary: Post-"By Perjury". Rated T for language. Connie reacts to Mike almost being killed.


**Disclaimer:**** Dick Wolf and NBC own "Law and Order". I don't. **

**A/N****: I DVR "L+O" reruns on TNT because I'm like the Black Eyed Peas, you guys, I "just can't get enough". LOL But yeah, they showed "By Perjury", and hot damn, is that a good episode, am I right? I love that one. It's one of my faves because, you guessed it, it's Mike-centric. **

** The only thing I don't like about it is the end. I mean, come on, we weren't shown Connie's reaction to Mike almost being killed! What the heck, writers? **

** So, it is with this story that I have decided to remedy that situation.**

** This is dedicated to Dick Wolf for creating Mike Cutter and Connie Rubirosa, as well as the M/C ship. You genius, you!**

** This is also for all the Mike Cutter fangirls out there, as well as all the M/C shippers.**

** To my super awesome readers: YOU RULE! **

** And last, but not least, to Linus Roache. You are an awesome actor. LOL I've wanted to hug you, as well as get your autograph and a picture with you for quite a while. Hells yeah. LOL**

**The Luckiest**

_"It's not too late for love."_

_ -Norah Jones, "Not Too Late"_

Mike Cutter sat in his office, idly tossing his baseball from one hand to the other, staring into space, his mind still racing from everything that had happened to him that day.

It'd happened in the blink of an eye.

He'd gone to the bathroom at the courthouse, minding his own damn business, just wanting to take a piss and then be on his way.

He wasn't hurting anything.

But before he'd really even registered what the hell was going on, he was staring down the barrel of Marty Winston's gun.

If Lupo and Bernard hadn't gotten there when they had, he would've been dead.

God damn…

_He could've been killed._

_ Today could've been the day he died._

And it was just now starting to sink in.

Son of a bitch…

_ He almost fucking died…_

He recalled what went through his head as soon as he saw the gun:

_ "I love you, Mom. I should've kept in touch more often. I know I haven't been the best son. I'm so sorry"…_

And what he thought after that…

He was now aware that his heart had been doing the thinking—not his mind.

_"Connie—there's something I've wanted you to know since the day we met: I love you"…_

He'd thought of the two most important people in the world to him.

_Christ,_ he thought, immensely relived.

The thought of passing without either of them knowing how much she meant to him was more than he could stand.

Well, his mother probably knew, but he was sure Connie had no idea.

Now that he really thought about it, that was probably a good thing, really, because he was positive she didn't love him back. Now that he thought of it, it would probably be best if he went knowing that he and Connie were still friends, rather than with Connie not wanting anything to do with him because he'd driven her away by telling her he loved her.

Yeah, the former was how he'd prefer to sign off—most definitely.

…But was it really?

Was he being wiser now or when Marty Winston's gun was in his face?

_Okay, enough of this philosophical shit—you're going to drive yourself crazy,_ Mike scolded himself.

He sighed.

He'd been such an ass to Lupo, and because the guy saved his life, Mike felt even worse. He'd made sure to apologize more than once and thank him more than once, as well. He felt very lucky that Lupo was so forgiving.

Connie was right—he'd been such a fucking prick.

Of course, those weren't _her_ words, but her meaning was the same.

He was suddenly yanked out of his thoughts by sharp, persistent knocking on his office door.

He stood up abruptly and set his baseball down on his desk.

Just then, Connie barged into the room, slamming the door behind her.

"What the hell?" she demanded.

"What?" Mike asked, taken aback.

"Oh don't give me that! I just left from going out for a drink with Lupo and Bernard—they told me what happened, and I hurried back here as fast as I could! They told me how Winston followed you into the bathroom at the courthouse and pulled a gun on you! They said they followed Winston, and it was a damn good thing they did, too, because they got there in the nick of time! Any later, and—"

Connie broke off, not sure if she could finish that sentence.

"Connie—"

"You know, right now, I don't know what I'm more inclined to do, embrace you or slap you! Mike, that son-of-a-bitch could've killed you! He almost did! What the hell did you think would come out of that gun if he fired it, a flag that says 'Bang'? He could've killed you—you could've died today! I can't believe you let me find out like this! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, I didn't want to worry you!"

"You didn't want to worry me? You know, ignorance is bliss for some people, but not for me, Mike—that's not how I work! So, what, you don't trust me enough—you don't believe in me enough to let me be there for you? Damn it, Mike, I care about you! Does that mean anything to you? Does it mean anything to you that this whole thing scares and upsets the hell out of me?"

"God, yes, of course it does!" Mike said earnestly. "Of _course_ it does! Connie, I'm so sorry—I'm _so_ sorry. You're absolutely right, I should've told you. It's not that I don't trust you _or_ that I don't believe in you enough to let you be there for me, I _swear_ to you that's not what it is. I didn't tell you because I wanted to shield you. But I now know that that was misguided. I did handle this terribly, you're right. I was wrong, and I'm _so_ sorry," he said sincerely. "I'm just…I'm too protective…The thought of anything upsetting you or worrying you, anything like that—it just _galls_ me, I can't stand it…"

His words complicated Connie's emotions even more. When she'd stormed into his office, she was angry, relieved, and hurt. Now she was relieved and flattered, and her feelings of anger and hurt had substantially subsided because although she still didn't approve of how he'd handled things, she now understood his motivation…

…Which was also why she was flattered.

He felt protective of her? Really?

Well, she had to admit, she felt protective of him, too…

The thought made her heart beat faster. She hoped she wasn't blushing.

Mike walked around his desk, so it was no longer between them. His heart was racing, too.

"The—the fact that you care as much as you do? That means more to me than you know…" he said softly. "It means everything…"

Connie could tell by the look in his eyes that that was the truth.

"I hope you believe me when I say I care _so_ much about you," Mike went on.

"I do," Connie said softly. "I, um…I was just very scared is all. That was the reason for all of that…"

"I know," Mike said gently. "And plus, I hurt you…I'm so sorry, Connie."

"I forgive you," Connie said, the emotion in his eyes making her melt. "Mike, we almost lost you…That was terrifying…"

She used 'we' because she was too afraid to say '_I_ almost lost you'.

The two of them stood there for a moment, making eye contact.

Then, unable to help himself, Mike stepped closer to her and embraced her.

Melting even more, Connie wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder.

"God, I can't imagine what you must've been feeling," she said.

"I was petrified," Mike said, holding tight to her. "I wouldn't have been able to say 'goodbye' to anyone…I wouldn't have had the chance to get everything in order before it happened, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," Connie said, relishing that they were in each other's arms as much as he was, "unfinished business."

"Yeah…"

"I also can't imagine what you must've been thinking…"

"I thought about whether I fuck up more than I do things right…whether I let the people I care about down more than I make them proud…I thought about my mother…I thought about how furious I've been about this whole case…"

Connie lifted her head up from off his shoulder, so she could look at him.

"Why is that, Mike? Jack told me you seem more eager than usual to win and also very agitated, and I agree with him. What is it?"

"Winston and I were in law school together, and for whatever reason, he despised me. I did nothing to him, but he just loved to give me hell whenever he could. To this day, I still don't know why. I never thought I'd see the son-of-a-bitch again, let alone did I ever think he'd end up a serial murderer who'd try to kill me, but here we are…I know lots of people have rivals, but they at least know the reason behind the rivalry…"

"I think I might know," said Connie.

"What?" Mike asked.

"He saw you as worthy competition—as his equal. In his mind, you were the only person capable of outsmarting him. That makes you a legitimate threat, so you're his enemy," said Connie.

"That makes perfect sense," Mike said. "You're probably right."

"And he tried to—you know—because he'd lost. He knew he couldn't beat you in a fair fight, so…" Connie said.

"I bet you're right…" said Mike.

"Mike, I'm _so_ sorry you had to go through that," Connie said. "I'm sosorry…And I'm _so_ grateful you're all right."

"I needed to hear you say that," Mike told her. "Thank you."

He resisted the urge to touch her face.

"Of course," said Connie.

Then, realizing that they still had their arms around each other, she gently stepped back. Though she'd loved that, it also scared her.

He already meant so much to her, but she was still scarred from the past and therefore still not entirely ready to trust yet.

A little sad that she'd pulled away, Mike awkwardly put his hands in his pockets.

But maybe he could just hold tight to her again…

"You know…thinking you could die at any moment really makes you put things into perspective…" he said softly.

"I'm sure it does…" said Connie.

"I—I got to thinking that—" Mike began, but he was all of a sudden interrupted by a knock at the door.

_Damn it,_ he thought sadly.

"Come in!" he called, hiding his disappointment.

An intern entered the room.

"Here are those copies you wanted, Mr. Cutter," she said, handing Mike a file folder.

"Oh—thank you," Mike said, taking it from her.

The intern nodded and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Well, um…I—I'm going to call it a day…" Mike said softly.

"Oh—all right…" Connie said. "Guess I will, too, then…"

An awkward silence filled the room as the two of them packed their briefcases and prepared to leave for the day.

Post- "For the Defense"

As soon as Mike and Connie entered Mike's office, and Mike closed the door—

"Damn it…" Connie whispered with a sigh, tossing aside her half of the large stack of appeals. "You son-of-a-bitch…"

She turned away.

Mike set down the appeals he'd been carrying.

"Connie?" he softly spoke her name after a pause.

"It's not you," Connie said gently, turning around to face him. "It's Woll…I can imagine what you must be thinking: 'God, she's naïve'…'How gullible can you get?'…'Can I even trust her anymore?'…'Does she sleep with every man she works with? I guess she used her body to get where she is, not her intellect'…" she added bitterly.

She looked everywhere but at him as she spoke.

Hearing her talk that way about herself broke Mike's heart. He stepped closer to her.

"You've got it all wrong," he said sadly. "God, Connie, how can you even _think _that way about yourself, let alone _talk_ that way? I don't think _any_ of that. I never could. That's impossible."

"It's just so humiliating…" said Connie. "If I had my way, you would've found out from me…Mike, I know he told you. I put two and two together after something he said to me."

"What did he say to you?"

"He told me I was 'breaking someone's heart', and I thought he meant himself, so I said, 'Yours? I don't think so', and he said…"

"It's all right, Connie. I can take it."

"He said, 'Poor Mike Cutter. He never realized you were available'…Mike, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault…What gets me is the way he spoke about you, the way he objectified you—it made me ill. Son-of-a-bitch was just after a good time, and after he got it, he was through with you. How anyone could ever do that to a woman like you…I don't get it at all."

Connie melted at those words.

"Thank you, Mike. But I'm the one who ended it, remember? I think he's still bitter about it. He really isn't anything special—obviously," she said.

Mike suddenly smirked.

"Did you mean it when you said—"

"When I said out loud in open court that it wasn't memorable? Absolutely," Connie replied, smirking as well. "Thank God he wasn't my first time…Oh Mike, you should've seen his face."

"I did. And to be honest, I really wanted to laugh, but obviously, it's not right for a prosecutor to laugh in the middle of a murder trial."

"Yeah…"

"Connie, please don't think less of yourself for that. Please," Mike then said sweetly.

Connie nodded.

"You're right," she said softly.

She paused, then—

"I'm so sorry that he taunted you. You are _such_ a good man, and you didn't deserve any of that…This isn't the way I wanted this to play out…"

"That makes two of us," Mike said quietly. "And do you mean that?"

"Do I mean it when I say you're a good man? Yes—of course I do. You're_ so_ smart, you're_ very_ compassionate, very sweet…"

"I…I actually think you're the most incredible woman I've ever met. I don't care about the mistakes you've made in your past because God knows I've fucked up, too. I don't think less of you for any of that. That's just not possible."

Those words deeply moved Connie.

_This is it—this is your chance,_ Mike thought. _This is your chance to let her know._

"Connie—I should've said this to you over a year ago—after Lupo and Bernard stopped Winston from shooting me," he said. "I don't know if you remember, but I said that that event made me put things into perspective."

"I remember," Connie said softly. "God, that whole thing scared me so much…"

They made eye contact for a moment and then Mike took another step towards her.

"That damn son-of-a-bitch," Connie said softly. "I wanted to hear it from you—not him. He was the last person I wanted to tell me."

It was Mike's turn to melt.

"You still can hear it from me," he said sweetly.

He gently took her hands in his.

"Like I said, someone pointing a loaded gun in your face really makes you put things into perspective. One—one of the people I thought of was you…I honestly thought I was going to pass away without ever having let you know the truth, and…and that hurt so much. That's why I said I should've been saying this to you over a year ago."

Connie nodded.

"I see," she said, quite moved.

"Connie, I—I'm sure this sounds cliché or hackneyed or whatever the right word is, but I don't know how else to word it. The day we met, I just…looked at you and felt some kind of connection. That's never happened to me before."

"Mike…"

Connie didn't know what to say.

She stepped closer to him and gently touched his face.

Mike leaned in and tenderly kissed her, his hand gently resting against the side of her neck.

Connie kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him.

Mike put his arms around her.

They broke apart a little bit later, and Mike briefly rested his forehead against hers.

"You know we'll have to talk about this," Connie said, a smile playing about her face.

"I do," Mike said sweetly. "Do you think we could talk over dinner at a nice restaurant?"

"As in, a date?" Connie said hopefully.

"Yeah…" Mike said a bit shyly.

"I'd love to do that," said Connie.

Mike smiled sweetly, his dimples showing.

Connie melted. She couldn't help but smile back. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, embracing him tightly.

Mike held her close.

"I love you, Connie."

"I love you, too."

Mike kissed the top of her head, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Connie felt like the world's luckiest woman.


End file.
